


Space Between

by WizardSandwich



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Love Confessions, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardSandwich/pseuds/WizardSandwich
Summary: Prowl arrives at Sanctuary Station.
Relationships: Cosmos/Prowl/Soundwave
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Space Between

**Author's Note:**

> a cross-posting of a prowlcoswave commission for @soundwavereporting on tumblr!

Sanctuary Station is somehow… less than Prowl expected, smaller than he’d thought it would be. The walls no longer have the vague purple glow that _every_ Decepticon ship seemed to have and the lights are bright, no longer condemned to wartime regulations.

“I expected something bigger,” Prowl says, instead of everything else.

Cosmos nods—more acknowledgement than anything—and says, “This, uh, this is it for now, I think? But Soundwave said that modules could be added in the future.”

He looks awkward—sounds awkward—as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s fair, all things considered, given who they both are. A comm call won’t fix everything and neither will a single visit. But Prowl can hope it’s a start.

“Where’s—” Prowl starts. As if on cue, the door slides open. Soundwave steps into the room. “—Soundwave? Nevermind.”

“Prowl,” Soundwave greets with a subtle nod.

“Soundwave. It’s nice to see you’re still in good health,” Prowl says, though not entirely good-naturedly. Soundwave might have had his respect, but certainly none of his affection.

“As well as one can be, in this universe,” Soundwave replies, offering his servo. Prowl takes it.

Cosmos watches them concerned optics as they sift through formalities, as if afraid they’ll end up at each other’s throats. It’s not an unprecedented concern, considering who Prowl and Soundwave are, but when they release each other’s servos he seems to relax, as if the danger has passed. Perhaps it has, Cosmos knows them both better than most.

“How have you been, Prowl?” Cosmos asks as he sits down at a the table tucked in the corner of the room. Soundwave himself turns to the energon dispenser. Prowl can admire that they seemed to have planned this out, even as casual of a meeting as it is supposed to be. “I heard a lot of things.”

“They’re probably all true,” Prowl admits after a moment, taking the seat across from Cosmos. “I was not… in the best of minds.”

It’s hard to admit, even in pleasant company, partially because of Soundwave and partially because of the weight of it. Even if Soundwave’s sins did outnumber his own, Soundwave had still been an enemy for a long time.

“Are you…?” Cosmos makes a vague gesture than Prowl has never been able to interpret. “You’re not going to go crazy on us, right?”

Prowl huffs out a laugh, “I’m not, Cosmos. I’d like to think I’m better now.”

“I’m glad you’re okay then. You might be a jerk, but you don’t deserve to be hurt,” Cosmos says, reaching across the table to rest his servo atop Prowl’s. Two of his digits end up framing his wrist. An old emotion flares in Prowl’s spark, one he’d thought he’d gotten rid of forever and a lifetime ago.

If Prowl were a fool—a romantic fool, young and naïve—he would claim it a perfect fit, the space between he and Cosmos. But it’s not. It’s nowhere near perfect, because Cosmos is so much larger than Prowl. He always has been. Pretending they fit together perfectly would be a fallacy.

Prowl stares for a moment before looking up at Cosmos again, meeting his optics, “It’s good to know you’re okay, too.”

He can see Cosmos’ optics crinkle in fondness, but he removes his servo in the next moment as Soundwave sits down beside them. Dutifully, Soundwave hands each of them an energon cube. He looks between him as if trying to figure something out. Prowl tries to ignore the phantom feeling of Cosmos’ servo on his.

“You’re not having any?” Cosmos asks, gesturing to Soundwave’s empty servos.

“I’ve already refueled,” Soundwave informs. “I do not feel comfort in taking off my mask in front of company.”

Cosmos’ squints suspiciously, “You take your mask off in front of me all the time.”

“That’s different,” Soundwave assures.

And Prowl _gets it_ suddenly, this thing between Cosmos and Soundwave. He has to hold back a snort. The Autobots and Decepticons were subtle, in their own ways, but Prowl had thought the Decepticons less so. Prowl forgets they’re different too.

For the Decepticons, vulnerability and protection were love. It was the kind of connection forged in fire. Prowl had always admired them for it, as much as he loathed to admit it. For the Autobots, there were far too many mixed signals. Too many subtleties to misinterpret and get wrong.

“Fine,” Cosmos concedes. He picks up his energon, straw already in the cube. His faceplate retracts, revealing his intake port. “You’re going to have to tell me eventually though.”

“I’m aware,” Soundwave says. “Now, I believe you wanted to catch up with Prowl, correct?”

“Yeah,” Cosmos nods, taking a sip of his energon. “Did anything interesting happen, Prowl? Anything you want to talk about, I mean—I know you’re a private guy and I won’t pry this time. I’ll wait until it’s just us.”

“I’ll have to thank you later, then,” Prowl says. “But nothing you’d want to know. I didn’t see anything all that exciting.”

He doesn’t mention a lot of things in that single statement. Like Optimus Maximus or Optimus Prime. It’s vulnerability that Soundwave does not deserve. But Cosmos will get it, when they’re alone.

“Private?” Cosmos asks, tone knowing, as if to make sure.

“Yes,” Prowl says, “but tell me how you’ve been? I know we didn’t part on the best of terms and I’d like to make sure we’re still…”

He makes a wordless gesture, sipping at his energon. Words are difficult sometimes, but especially in the face of this. Beside Cosmos, Soundwave looks as if he’s reached some great realization.

“Are you courting?” Soundwave asks before either of them can say more.

Prowl chokes. The energon burns as some gets into his internal vents. The rest ends up coating his arm when he coughs.

“ _What?_ ” he asks, disbelieving.

Cosmos looks just as surprised at the question, “Prowl and I are _definitely not_ courting. He’s Prowl and I’m—What made you think that?”

Prowl ignores the flare of self-loathing that comes with the statement, the cut off. There’s a part of him that agrees far to vehemently with the thoughts it brings. He merely turns to look at Soundwave instead.

Soundwave looks helpless for a moment, as if unsure what to say. Then, decisively, he says, “You want to be.”

“Again. What?” Prowl demands, not even making his way toward denial. The warm emotion in his chest can’t really be ignored when it’s shoved in front of him.

“Cosmos was flirting with you,” Soundwave says patiently.

“No?” Prowl knows he sounds unsure but he can’t quite wrap his processor around the idea.

“Yes,” Soundwave insists, looking over at Cosmos. “Cosmos.”

Cosmos looks uncomfortable under the weight of Soundwave’s stare. Prowl can understand. He thinks he would be uncomfortable if he were Cosmos too. Not many ever paid him much attention, but that’s what made him good for Ops work.

“I might have been,” Cosmos admits after a long moment. “But I can stop if you want me to. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

“I—” Prowl stops. He thinks of what he could say. Affection is a weakness. Prowl has learned that, but Cosmos is—he’s Cosmos. Prowl can’t explain what he feels for him or why. “You don’t have to stop,” he says softly.

Cosmos gets that surprised look again, as if he didn’t expect Prowl to return a hint of his affections. But he looks happy too. But Prowl, for all he is, refuses to be trapped, even by this. He refuses to let Cosmos be trapped by it either.

“On that note, please inform Soundwave you’re flirting with him too,” Prowl says, all faux politeness, because blunt force has always worked for him in situations such as these. He ignores the whispers of _Optimus._

If this doesn’t come to head now, it likely never will. And Prowl doesn’t have to _like_ Soundwave to acknowledge that Cosmos and Soundwave will be unhappy without each other, even if Prowl is by Cosmos’ side. Love is a multifaceted thing and Prowl himself is a time bomb waiting to go off. These are the things that Prowl understands.

It’s Soundwave’s turn to be surprised and Cosmos sinks back into embarrassment. Prowl would be amused if this were any less of a charged situation. But he knows how it will end. It was obvious from the start.

“Yeah,” Cosmos says shortly.

Soundwave’s optics fill with affection, “You are in luck, little Autobot.”

He takes Cosmos’ servo in his own and he is all soft lines and adoration. For a moment, Prowl feels like an interloper here in this place, where Soundwave and Cosmos have filled their lives with affection.

The feeling is not entirely gone even when Cosmos says, “Come here, Prowl.”

He holds out his servo and his optics are just as soft as Soundwave’s. Prowl does not know how to love—not yet, but it is close enough when Cosmos grabs his servo and Prowl’s digits curl over Cosmos’. That warm feeling settles in his chest again. He lets himself be pulled to Cosmos’ side, tucked under his arm as if a lover.

Perhaps, Prowl can be naïve this once.


End file.
